


AKA: Life in the Fat Lane

by Some Like It Fat (code87)



Category: Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Belching, Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, F/F, Farting, Fat Shaming, Friends to Lovers, I promise, Mind Control, Not actually incest, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, eventual mutual weight gain, fat kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-08-03 06:05:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16320521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/code87/pseuds/Some%20Like%20It%20Fat
Summary: Set after season 1, ignores the events of season 2. When Jessica confronts a mesmerizer even more powerful than Killgrave, the encounter has large effects on her waistline...and her relationship to her best friend, Patricia Walker. Will Jessica  track down the second  super-powered mesmerist that changed her life in time to stop herself from becoming absolutely massive, or will Trish help her best friend see that it's not so bad living life in the Fat lane?





	1. AKA The Confrontation

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something I thought up one day, and decided to post the first chapter to see how people respond to this story. To my knowledge, there is one other Jessica Jones story that contains weight gain, called AKA Fat Girl (so feel free to check that out), but since this story is going in a different direction, I still felt okay with posting my story here. I hope you enjoy the first chapter!

It’s late, by most people’s standards, when my mark walks towards a fast food restaurant. A McDonald’s, of all places.

   Dr. Patrick Coulson.  An ordinary looking man who my source assures me is anything but. However, I’ve been tailing this guy since he gave a big speech at a psychiatric conference in Manhattan this afternoon, and I’m starting to think that Malcolm may have been wrong about Dr. Coulson, and exaggerating the efficacy of his methods. The only interesting thing I’ve seen the dark haired, slightly overweight 35 year-old in a three piece suit do today was whip out a pocket watch and run a hypnosis con on his audience, supposedly for the purposes of curbing addiction. And while many of the people at the conference seemed to be impressed with the man’s act, the only effect it seemed to have on me from my seat in the back row was to make me a little drowsy for a half hour or so. That’s it. Furthermore, Dr. Coulson’s actual speech seemed generic and uninspired, loaded with a bunch of psychobabble that I’m all too familiar with due to the army of therapists that Trish had forced me to see after shortly after escaping Killgrave’s control.

            I suppress a shudder, than force myself not to think about the monster who raped me, in more ways than one. Instead, I think back to more recent past events, such as the uneventful day that Dr. Coulson has forced me to witness second hand. Like most tourists in New York for the first time, the man visited several famous locations in the Big Apple, after his conference was over, such as the Empire State Building and the Stock Exchange. He even tried to get a ferry to the Statue of Liberty in the middle of the night. But of course, all of the tours had ended for the day, and (after my mark opened his mouth as if to argue with the ticket booth agent, but closed his mouth, shook his head, then sighed instead).Patrick left without getting to see Lady Liberty up close.

            Shortly thereafter, the man the press has been calling a “Master of Hypnotherapy” in recent years walked around aimlessly around downtown for about an hour. During my several hours of recon after the conference, which were almost enough to bore me to tears, I only noticed two things about the unimpressive looking man that are even slightly odd. One, every person Patrick talks to has a smile on their face immediately after conversing with him, even those whose facial expressions indicated they had been angry, or impatient, or even miserable, seconds before the famous hypnotist talked to them. And two, the man rubs his stomach and smiles every time he eats. Which is often.

Seriously, bud, did you really need to make several stops for a slice of deep dish pizza, a pretzel, a churro, and two scoops of ice cream in the space of three hours? If you’re not careful, that potbelly of yours is going to resemble a beer belly in no time. And now you’re slowly meandering towards a McDonald’s too. The paradise of wide loads everywhere.

I roll my eyes as I jump to a rooftop near the one I had just been standing on, in order to get a better view of my subject. Then, for the first time today, something really unusual happens.

Two men in fucking ski masks step out of nearby alley openly a brandishing a knife and a gun, respectfully. After the two men point both weapons in Dr. Coulson’s direction, I sigh, and then prepare to jump of the rooftop to defend a man who I’m more and more convinced is just an ordinary man with a not-so healthy oral fixation. But then Patrick’s lips move. I can’t make out what the psychiatrist says, but it must leave an impression, because both men in front of him immediately holster their weapons into their trench coats (amateurs) take off their masks, and calmly walk away from Patrick with smiles on their faces.

Now a shudder does run down my spine, and I’m so preoccupied with the memory of Killgrave effortlessly talking down a sniper from killing people weeks ago that I almost fail to notice Patrick looking up towards my rooftop in time to duck away from his field of vision. The clever bastard’s done that a few times today. He’s obviously smart enough to know he’s being watched, if the half dozen glances over his shoulder he’s thrown in my general direction, or the fact that he’s changed cabs and subway lines seemingly at random a few times today, are an indication of anything. But thankfully, my mark’s not smart enough to spot me, or lose my tail.  And that’s a good thing, because my person of interest’s encounter with those thugs just now, and the glazed look in the eyes of the two men, one white, one African American, are enough to confirm Malcolm’s suspicions that Dr. Coulson is anything but ordinary.

I decide I’ve been watching from the shadows long enough. After I take a few deep breaths, recite my stupid mantra of street names, and shake off my memories of Killgrave as best as I can, I jump off of the two story building  I’ve been standing on, all the way down to street level. Naturally, I don’t have a scratch on me.

I ignore the wide-eyed glance of a bum I pass on my way into the McDonalds Patrick entered a few minutes ago. My mark is calmly sitting at a booth eating a large double quarter pounder, with everything on it, when I set in the chair across from him and say. “Dr. Coulson, you and I need to have a little chat.”

Neither my sudden entrance into the “restaurant”, nor the intimidating glare I’m currently shooting towards the man, seem to have the desired effect. Patrick’s eyes merely widen slightly when he looks up at me, but he calmly finishes his bite of food, and then puts down his sandwich before he verbally acknowledges my presence. “Hello, there. You must be the one who’s been following me all day. Jessica Jones, isn’t it? I’ve read a lot about you in the papers.”

I sigh. I hate that being famous makes it so easy to identify me now. Maybe I need to start wearing a disguise if I want to keep being a P.I. “You and about a zillion others buddy. Do you want a fucking autograph or something?”

The man in front of me chuckles. But it’s a nervous laugh. “No. That won’t be necessary. I’m just curious why a heroic young woman such as yourself would find a boring old hypnotherapist like me so interesting.”

I scoff at my mark’s lame attempts at flattery. “Cut the shit. I saw what you did to those men who tried to rob you in front of this place…” I lower my voice. “I saw you talk them down. Those two were prepared to kill you to take your money, your Rolex, and the suit you’re wearing tonight. But after a word from you, they walked away with smiles on their faces, not a penny richer, and they had glazed looks in their eyes.”

Dr. Coulson shrugs and smiles at my words. “You are a perceptive one, Jessica. But sometimes it only takes a few of the right words to talk even the most desperate men out of doing something they’ll regret for the rest of their lives.”

I roll my eyes. “Those must have been three damn good words, then.”

“Actually…” The man in front of me leans forward slightly, and then whispers. “It took eight. Weapons down. Go home and rethink your life. “

My eyes widen as my suspicions about the man in front of me are confirmed by his own words. “That’s it?

The man in front of me shrugs. “That’s it. I’m a very persuasive individual.”

I glare back at the man in front of me. “I bet you are. So basically, you’re just like Killgrave, then.”

Patrick is in the process of raising a fry to his lips when I say this, but the man’s hand automatically lets go of the salty carbohydrates stick and glares at me after I speak. “I’m nothing like Killgrave! I read about that monster in the paper. The things he did to you and that one girl he made kill her parents…What was her name?”

“Hope” I reply in a deadpan voice.”

Patrick sighs and nods as he whispers. “That’s right. Hope. If the accounts I’ve read are accurate, the things the man you call Killgrave did to you, her, and other people were…unspeakable. He deserved to die at your hands the way he did. But you have to believe me, Miss Jones, when I say that just because I have similar abilities as that bastard did, doesn’t mean I’m anything like him. And don’t look so surprised I’m admitting that to you. Based on your reputation, I’m sure you would have figured out the truth eventually. And we…special people have to trust each other, right?”

I suppress a snort and shake my head at the man in front of me. “Please.  I don’t trust anyone. No way I’m going to take the word of some guy I just met about not being a psychopathic manipulator.”

Patrick sighs. “What kind of proof do you need that I’m not a monster then, Miss Jones?”

I frown for a second before answering. “You could tell me how you got your abilities, for starters.”

Dr. Coulson sighs and whispers. “Okay. I’ve been…different since I was fourteen. That was the year my parents found out I had brain cancer. By the time I was diagnosed, I was already at stage four. The tumor was inoperable. But my family has…connections with some very powerful people in the government, which allowed me to get me placed into a new, top secret medical trial for terminal cancer patients.”

I frown as I nod my head. This all sounding eerily familiar, just like Killgrave’s story. ”Let me guess, the trial wasn’t really meant to give people special abilities, but it succeeded beyond anyone’s wildest dreams?”

Patrick sighs. “Not exactly. The other twelve kids all died. I was the only one who got through the experiments without experiencing a quick, painful death, let alone got their cancer cured. My family said that since the treatment only worked on me, the experiment was considered a failure. And if the government was trying to make super soldiers during that trial, well, I never knew about it. Plus, I didn’t develop my…gifts, if you can call them that, until a couple months after my cancer went away. As far as I know, Uncle Sam still doesn’t know what I can do.”

“Which is control the actions of anybody you want, right?”

Patrick looks away from me and shrugs. “Actions, words, thoughts, feelings. I can change anything about a person’s mental state that I want to with the right words. So I have to be very careful what I say.”

My eyes widen slightly at the implications of what Dr. Coulson just said. Could he really be even more powerful than Killgrave was? “I’m sure. Explain to me how your…gifts work then. You said you could control more than people’s actions, like Killgrave could?”

Patrick sighs. “Yes. Like I said, I can change most people’s emotions, perceptions, or even their very thoughts if I want to. Without even realizing it, if I’m not very careful.”

I stare intently at the man in front of me, trying to watch for any signs that would tell me if the next words out of his mouth are a lie or not. “And how do people feel about you doing that to them? How do they react when they realize they’ve been manipulated?”

Patrick looks down intently at the table between us. “They generally don’t. My abilities are more…subtle than that. I tell someone to do, or think, or feel something, and they will. Then that person’s mind accommodates the new information by giving the person I manipulate a false sense of agency about their actions, cognitions and…”

I slam my hand down on the table, being careful not to break anything as I do so. “In English! Skip the psychobabble!”

Patrick nods, and then reluctantly looks at me. “Very well. In simpler terms, I make someone do something, and a few seconds later, they walk away thinking it was their idea.”

I narrow my eyes at Patrick .I’m skeptical of the man’s claims to be so powerful. “Prove it. Make me do something.”

Patrick smiles so wide, you would think he was a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. “I can’t. Isn’t that wonderful!? I couldn’t command you even if I wanted to!  You proved that when I told you to believe I wasn’t like Killgrave, and you didn’t. I could even tell you to do something crazy, like ‘Get really fat”, without fear, because now I know you won’t do it! I don’t know how you resisted my will like that. But it’s a relief to meet someone who I can’t manip …”

I cross my arms in front of me and cut off the man in front of me. “It’s probably just because being around Killgrave so long made me resistant to…people like you.  But you’re telling me you already tried to manipulate me?! You have three seconds to explain yourself before I put your head through that wall behind you!”

Patrick sighs heavily. “I didn’t try to control you because I wanted to. I just…I read that you have a bit of a temper, Miss Jones, and I didn’t want you to break me in half or something because you mistook me for some monster.”

I roll my eyes when I see none of the classic indicators of deception in the face or gestures of the man in front of me. “Fine. Make someone else here do something. Something that won’t hurt them, or embarrass them too much.”

Patrick glares at me. “I would rather not.”

I glare right back. “What the fuck is the problem now?””

Patrick shakes his head. “I said no. It’s unethical for me to use my abilities that way. I learned that a long time ago. I’m fine with doing small things, like making someone be happy for the rest of the day, or helping someone quite smoking or doing drugs if they ask me to. But I won’t force my own will on a person by making him or her do something they really don’t want to do, unless I have to use my gifts to protect myself, or others.”

I roll my eyes at the man in front of me, but I’m secretly relieved that this man seems less and less like the sadistic Killgrave every second I talk to him. “Can’t you just do something small, just to prove that anything you’re saying to me about your abilities right now isn’t bullshit!? I mean, I say your hypnosis session earlier today. So many people there were gushing about how you had ‘changed their lives forever”, but all I saw was a silly man waiving a watch around…”

Patrick chuckles. “The watch does nothing. It’s just for show. But my words are actually quite powerful. More powerful than I’d like, in fact. I always have to be careful not to…”

“Manipulate people by accident. I got it. Oh, poor baby. I should feel so sorry for you because you can get whatever you want with just a word. Please, don’t try to tell me that your life is anything short of paradise if you’re really as powerful as you claim to be.”

Patrick glares at me for several seconds, then talks in a tone of voice indicating that he is pretending to calm while trying not to blow a gasket. “My life’s a living hell, actually. Do you know what it’s like to know that you could have everything you ever wanted: fame, money, power, even the actress/singer who is the girl of your dreams, anything, in no time at all, and have to choose, day after day, to live a solitary life with no close friends, lovers, or significant others, so I won’t be tempted to manipulate people to make my every wish come true?! Every waking moment, I have to watch myself, weigh every word before I say it, and make sure nothing I saw could possibly be misconstrued as an order before I utter a syllable, or I risk turning the people around me into mindless slaves. “

I raise my right eyebrow. “Really? That’s how a man with godlike power lives?”

Patrick nods. “It is if he has any kind of conscience. Because the alternatives are so much worse. A few months after my brain surgery, I was finally able to go back to school. By the end of that first day back, it felt like my whole life had changed. All the sudden, my peers liked me, teachers and the principal loved me. Hell, it seemed like every girl in school had a crush on me all of the sudden. Somehow, I had gone from being the class loner to the most popular kid in school in just seven hours’ time. At first, I just chalked it up to people rallying around a cancer survivor, and I thought my popularity would wear off after a few days. When it didn’t, I just figured that I had somehow gotten more charismatic after my near death experience. Because I appreciated my life more, maybe? Honestly, I didn’t care. I was just glad not to be a social leper anymore. I was happy that people actually listened to me now when I asked them to be nice to me, you know?”

I just nod at Patrick’s words before he continues speaking. “Anyway, after a few weeks back in school, I’m feeling pretty good about myself, right? I’m riding high as a jet. So I ask this girl that I’d liked since the third grade, Nicole Bachmann, out to Winter Formal that year. I knew she was out of my league. She was the most popular girl in school, president of the student council, head of the physics club, two years older than me. And her boyfriend was Robbie Nicklestein, the quarterback on the school football team. My point is, I didn’t actually expect Nicole to say yes, but if figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Patrick won’t meet my eyes again as he looks down at the table and speaks so softly I can barely hear him. “Of course, Nicole said she’d go with me to the dance and dumped Robbie that day. She had no choice. Not that I knew that at the time. What I also didn’t know until a few weeks later was that Nicole had been pregnant with Robbie’s baby. She um…Nicole decided to terminate the pregnancy, which again, I did not ask her to do because I didn’t even know she was pregnant. I guess she didn’t want to be a single parent. Robbie didn’t take that well. He…he killed himself with his father’s gun when he found out. That was two days before the dance. I guess Nicole felt guilty for what happened, because she hung herself from the rafters of the school gym as soon as the dance was over…. I didn’t even know why until her friends told me everything that happened at her funeral.”

Patrick is silently crying now, and. I curse myself for not knowing how to handle the obviously very real pain of the man in front of me, so I settle for handing him a few napkins to use as tissues. “Thank you. “ Dr. Coulson says after he blows his nose and wipes away his tears. Thankfully, nobody else is sitting in the dining room at this time of night, so the psychiatrist’s outburst isn’t noticed by anyone but me. Patrick closes his eyes for several seconds, and then opens them to give me a serious look. “Anyway, after I finally figured out what had happened to my brain, what I had accidentally forced Nicole to do…I tried to take a power drill to my head in my family’s garage and bore out the part of me that made me a freak. Thankfully, my dad saw what I was doing and stopped me. I was sobbing uncontrollably at the time, so I couldn’t get the words out to command my father to let me die. Afterwards, I told my parents everything. And of course, I got them to believe me. So then me and my family sat down and discussed the situation. I agreed that, in order to prevent something like…that from happening again, I could only use my abilities to help others from now on. And I could never force people to do something they didn’t want to do unless…”

“Unless someone’s life was in danger, right?” I reply. Patrick just nods, so I speak again. “That’s quite a tale you have there, Dr. Coulson. But I’m going to choose to believe you, for now. If I find out you lied to me, though, or if I ever catch you abusing your talents again…”

Patrick nods. “You’ll kill me. I know. Good. If that happens, I’ll deserve whatever’s coming to me.”

I nod.  Honestly, I’m surprised Dr. Coulson responded so well to my words. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page there. Still, I wish Killgrave had parents like yours. Maybe he wouldn’t have become a monster. Or maybe if he’d gotten his powers when he was older, like you did…”

Patrick laughs humorlessly. “In my experience, it’s best not to think about ‘might have beens’. Down that path lies madness.”

I nod at that. “Easier said than done.. Still. I wish there was some way for you to prove to me that you’re as powerful as you say you are. Maybe if you do something small. Something that’s actually good for someone else.”

Patrick shrugs. “I’m open to suggestions.”

And then I see her out of the corner of my eye. My next door neighbor. All 300 plus pounds of her. She’s just sitting down on a nearby table, getting ready to enjoy her meal. After I risk a glance towards the woman I’ve spied on from a distance several times, but never met, I turn to Patrick and smirk while I whisper. “Okay, I’ve got your good deed for the day. See that big woman sitting at the table next to us chowing down on two large combo meals, a sundae, an ice cream cone, and a big pile of apple pies and cookies? That’s my next door neighbor. Her name is Pam. " Not Hogarth's Pam, I think to myself. "She used to be fitness instructor with a millionaire husband until she got into a car accident three years ago. When she was in the hospital, her husband left Pam for  her best friend. He had one hell a lawyer, and  he got the kids.”

In this moment, I remind myself that Hogarth, can be quite a bitch sometimes. “Anyway, because of her injuries, Pam wasn’t in good enough shape to be a fitness instructor anymore. Since Pam got a whole lot of money in the divorce, though, she doesn’t have to work. Unfortunately, with her kids, job and husband gone, Pam kind of gave up on herself and turned to food for comfort. She also stopped working out last week. I guess with her injuries, and all that extra weight, exercise hurts too much…”

Patrick rolls his eyes. “So you want me to make her lose weight and eat less? It’s not right for me to use my abilities to override Pam’s free will that way.”

I roll my eyes right back. “Come on, being that big, eating like that, can’t be good for her health…”

But Patrick sticks to his guns. “Smoking isn’t good for people, either. Or drinking too much, drugs, skydiving….the list goes on and on. If I go around telling people how they can and can’t live their lives in the name of “health”, that would make me a monster. Just like Killgrave.”

I roll my eyes at Patrick’s stubbornness, even as I continue whispering. “Come on, poindexter. Pam’s hated herself since she started packing on the pounds. She looks at herself and the mirror and cries at least once a week. And all she ever wears are T-shirts and sweatpants. She knows she’s not good looking, so she doesn’t even try…”

Patrick raises his right eyebrow. “Who says she’s not good looking?”

I snort at that. “Pretty much everybody. Nobody likes a fat chick.”

Patrick shrugs casually. “I do. I love fat women.”

The odd hypnotherapist then looks right at Pam, who is in the middle of eating her tenth chicken nugget, and shoots the chunkster a flirtatious grin. Pam just looks down and blushes while my eyes widen. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”

Patrick shakes his head. “Nope. I’m dead serious. I love fat women. And I’m not ashamed to admit it. In fact, I’ve said that on my blog. Multiple times. I’m surprised you didn’t find that out while doing your research on me.”

I quickly make a mental note to myself to go over Malcolm’s research notes more thoroughly next time I pick up one of his cases, just before, Patrick stands up, walks away from the table, and shoots me a smirk over his shoulder. “You wanted a demonstration, Jessica. Okay, I’ll give you one now.”

Dr. Coulson then head right over to Pam’s table and starts speaking to her. “You’re beautiful, Pam. And you’d be beautiful at any size. Stop being ashamed of your body, because you are a very attractive women. You don’t have to hide your body anymore if you don’t want to, and you don’t have to be ashamed for eating whatever you want, because you are perfect just the way you are. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

Patrick says all of this loud enough for me to hear him, and I roll my eyes at Patrick’s over-the top performance, but Pam seems a lot more impressed by the mesmerist’s words. The large woman cries as she gets up from her table and hugs Patrick. “Thank you so much! People stopped calling me pretty a hundred pounds ago! Thank you for making me realize that I’m beautiful just the way I am! If other people don’t like what I look like, or what I choose to eat, that’s their problem!”

Patrick smiles nervously. “That’s great, Pam. But you can stop hugging me now, if you want to.”

Pam nods her head and reluctantly pulls away from Patrick. “Sorry! It’s just so nice to finally meet a man who’s attracted to ‘Plus-size Pam!’ Speaking of which, do you want to exchange phone numbers? Maybe we could get together sometime…”

Patrick shakes his head. “I would love that, Pam…” From the bulge I can spot in Patrick’s pants, I believe him, but Dr. Coulson keeps speaking. “But I don’t actually live around here. I have to get on my red-eye flight to L.A. in a few hours, so I can’t stay here and chat. Besides, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now. I just wanted to let you know how beautiful you are before I left your wonderful city!”

Dr. Coulson and Pam exchange a few more words after that. They’re both too quiet for me to hear them from a distance, but Pam laughs at something Patrick says, so I guess she is still trying to charm the guy. This hunch is confirmed when Pam tries to give the man her phone number again, but Patrick pulls his hand away from Pam’s old business card with a sad look on his face then walks away from Pam instead…but not before the large lass sneaks a quick peck on the hypnotherapists’ cheek which leaves my person of interest red in the face right afterward.

Huh. I guess some people really do like fat chicks.

Just before Patrick leaves the restaurant, and I start picking at the large burger combo the man just left on the table because I haven’t eaten all day and I’m hungry, damn it, Patrick turns back towards me and says. “Oh, and Jessica? I’m sorry you’ve had such a rough life. I hope you find happiness soon.”

And with that corny line out of the way, Dr. Coulson slips out of the front door of the restaurant with a smile on his face.

It’s isn’t until Dr. Coulson is out of view, and I’m on my last bite of double quarter pounder with cheese, that I realize how odd it is that I suddenly became so focused on food that I let my person of interest leave my line of sight just so I could chow down. But I quickly shrug as I realize there’s probably no point in keeping tabs on Patrick now. The man’s certainly a little weird, but he seems like a decent enough guy. He’s not a monster, like Killgrave was.

I’m still hungry when I’m done eating Dr. Coulson’s food, so I get up to get a desert of some kind, when Pam calls my name. “Hey, I saw that you and Dr. Coulson were talking before he talked to me. I know I was flirting kind of hard with him back there and…I hope he’s not your boyfriend or anything. I wouldn’t want to get in the way if…”

I snort at that thought. “No. He’s not my boyfriend. I hardly know the guy, actually. We were just having a professional conversation.”

Pam smiles, and maybe it’s just the fact that I’m sleep deprived since I spent all of last night drinking, and  most of today following Dr. Coulson, but Pam’s face doesn’t look as plain and ugly as usual when her eyes light up and she smiles brightly. In fact…despite her double chin and round cheeks, I suddenly notice that Pam looks almost…attractive , in a certain light. Huh. I guess I could see how see why some guys would want to hit that. Pam then nods and says. “Oh, good! I was starting to think all the good, non-shallow men were taken. But I guess one’s still single, so I have a shot!”

 I just nod, and I’m about to stroll up to the counter to order a sundae, or a mcflurry, or some cookies, when Pam thinks out loud while looking at herself using her smart phone’s mirror setting for a moment. “Would you look at that? I really am pretty!” The fat woman then takes a big bite of her cookie while unselfconsciously patting her large stomach, and for a moment, I kind of envy Pam’s newfound confidence in her body and the unbridled, shameless joy in her eyes as she scarfs down her chocolate chip dessert.

My stomach rumbles in hunger as I look upon the strange, but not unpleasant, sight of a somewhat pretty fat woman chowing down on a feast for one without any guilt. Without giving it much thought I dash to the counter and get the nearest cashier’s attention. “I would like one sundae, an Oreo Mcflurry. No, M&M, No, I can’t decide. I’ll have one of each. I’ll also have one...better make it two, packs of chocolate chip cookies, a chocolate shake, half a dozen apple pies, and the sweetest cold coffee drink you have.”

I smile, then almost droll, in anticipation of all the sweet treats I’m about to consume, then pat my small stomach, as I add. “And hurry! I’m very hungry.”


	2. AKA The Turn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which changes both great and terrible occur in the lives of both Jessica and Trish...in rapid succession.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope my readers don't hate me for this. If you do, look at the new story tags. They might help.

Jessica’s POV:

It’s early, by my standards, when I sit up from my oak chair, which groans in relief when I left my body weight off of it, and walk slowly over towards my office door to lock it. But even though it’s only eight thirty in the evening when I get up to close up shop, I’m already tired. It’s been a very long day. 

I’m thinking about all the stakeouts, video recording, and picture taking I’ve been doing non-stop since late yesterday, so I’m not really paying attention where I’m going in the room, and right love handle accidentally knocks over a carton of ice cream and a bag of chips from the small table they were on top off. I almost gasp in horror at my clumsiness, but I sigh in relief when I look down and see that the carton and bag were already empty. Good thing too, there’s nothing worse than wasting good food!

I yawn loudly as I’m setting the deadbolt on my door, and I’m promising myself that I’ll clean my office tomorrow when a large Italian woman wedges her meaty arm just inside the door. “Wait! Miss Jones, your office hours say that you don’t close until 9PM and…”

I roll my eyes as I look at the 200-plus pound raven haired woman who is blocking me from locking my office door. I’ve seen this desperate wife of a corporate CEO before. “First of all, Mrs. Farigneo, the sign on my door says ‘usual office hours’, as in, I can change the damn schedule if I want to. That’s one of the benefits of being my own boss. Second of all, all my promotional materials say, ‘by appointment only’, and you don’t have one. And thirdly, and fourthly, I know you’re husband said he’d stop cheating on you after the last time I caught him on camera with another woman, but if you’re suspicious enough to come here to have me investigate him again, for the fourth damn time, then I can assure you that he is in fact, cheating on you again, because he’s a selfish asshole who can’t take it that you gained a little weight while giving birth to nine of his kids! Also, I already have twelve clients right now, and I have my assistant Malcolm working five other cases as well. Alias Investigations is booked solid, and I don’t have time to confirm that your husband is still a Man Whore.”

“Please,” The woman has tears in her eyes now. “I don’t have anywhere else to turn...”

I roll my eyes again, but mutter “Wait here”, while I go back to my desk and get a business card out of it, accidentally bumping an empty popcorn tub off my desk with my ass while doing so. I then give Mrs. Farigneo a business card as I say. “You don’t need a P.I. anymore, you need a divorce lawyer. And Jeri Hogarth is the best in New York. She’s ruthless, and she’ll take a good chunk out of however many billions of dollars you win in divorce court, but she gets the job done. You hire Miss Hogarth, and give her all of the photographic and video evidence I gave you, and I promise you that you’ll get full custody of all of your children, and a queen’s ransom to help take care of them, and still live very comfortably yourself. Just do me a favor and tell Jeri I sent you. Money’s always a little tight around here, and I could use the commission.”

Mrs. Farigneo cries again. “But…how am I supposed to go one without Luis?”

I shrug. “Not my problem. Look, if you really want a new squeeze, go on one of those plus-sized dating websites and get a boy toy after your divorce. Or before, if you want. Just don’t get caught if you want to do well in divorce court.”

I then use a small fraction of my strength to push my former customer away from my office/ apartment, then slam the door before she can hassle me again. I then sigh as I slowly walk over to my desk and collapse onto my chair. Apparently, that was a bad move, because I hear a load groaning sound coming from the wood underneath my ass soon after I sat down. And a few seconds later…

SNAP!

One of the chair legs breaks.

SNAP!  
SNAP!  
SNAP!

And the other three quickly follow suite, leaving me sitting on top of several pieces of broken wood. I sight as I pick myself up from the ground. “Another chair bites the dust!”

I then pull out my cellphone and dial a familiar number while I vent. “Damn furniture companies can’t make anything sturdy these days!” While I’m waiting for someone to pick up on the other end of the line, I go to my bedroom and collapse onto my mattress, which squeaks from the added weight before conforming itself to accommodate the shape of my round body.

I make a mental list of the tasks I have tomorrow and minimize my phone app while making some notes in the smartphone Trish gave me for my last birthday. I lick my lips as I remember the taste of the buttercream cupcake my best friend gave me that year, but I quickly push that thought aside when my stomach starts to rumble. I don’t need to make myself anymore hungry than usual by thinking about food when I don’t have any left in my apartment. Finally, after five minutes that feels like an eternity, someone finally answers my call. “Greasy Pete’s Pizzeria! We’re open all night so we can feed you right…”

I snarl at the man on the other end of the phone. “Cut the bullshit, Ted! This is your not-so friendly neighborhood superhero vigilante speaking, and I’m very hungry, since you dickwads kept me on hold for even longer than usual!”

Ted sighs on the other end of the line, but there’s an excitement mixed with the man’s annoyance at my demeanor as he replies. “Hey, Jessica. Do you want your usual order, then?”

I nod, even though I know the man on the other end of the line can’t see it. “Absolutely! Oh, and can you add an extra order of breadsticks to that!? And some garlic butter sauce! Oh, and some chocolate cake! I’m really hungry today!”

Ted sighs harder, but I can also hear the arousal in his voice as he replies. “And I suppose you’ll be wanting your usual ‘superhero discount’ as well?”

“What do you think!?”

Ted lowers his voice as he replies. “You know this is the third time this week, Jessica! The 30 minutes or less policy is supposed to be a guarantee, not an excuse to give customers, even ones as hot as you, free orders! If I get caught slowing down one of your deliveries again, I’ll be fired for sure! And all the drivers know the way to your apartment too well to get lost…”

I frown for a second, but then I smile as I pull out my secret weapon. I moan seductively into the line as I whisper. “Why don’t you make the delivery yourself then, and just say you were late, Ted? I would be EVER so GREATFUL!” And just in case Ted doesn’t get the idea yet, I add. “And I’m sure I could make it worth your while…”

Ted seems to know exactly what I’m talking about now, because he’s practically panting on the other end of the line as he whispers. “Oh…Okay! Yeah, I can do that! I’ll get Lenny to cover the phones for me for an hour or so. I’ll be right over with your order as soon as I can!”

“We got ourselves a deal then, Ted! But don’t keep me waiting too long, or the deal’s off. I’m SO HUNGRY!”

After I hang up the line, I frown as I wonder if exchanging sex for pizza makes me a whore. Sex worker. Whatever. But then I just shrug as I remind myself that the state of my bank account isn’t the greatest right now, despite my large number of clients, I’m really hungry, and that Ted, who I’ve met once before while picking up a pizza a couple years back, isn’t exactly bad looking. Besides, I haven’t gotten laid in a while, so this is a win-win situation for me.

KNOCK!KNOCK! KNOCK!

I roll my eyes when I hear someone knocking on my door, but I heave myself up and stomp over to the entrance to my office anyway. “I said we’re closed! Mrs. Farigneo, I swear that if you’re not out of the building in thirty seconds, I’m calling the cop….”

But I’m met with a different familiar face than the one I’m expecting after I unbolt and open the door. Instead of the distressed, dark-haired, and portly woman, there is now a skinny blonde woman standing at my door with an angry look on her face. My friend’s eyes have a fire in them that I’ve always liked, even if that look is only directed at me when my best friend is mad at me.. “Is that anyway to talk to your best friend?”

“Why do you keep trying to get in touch with me, Trish? I told you that I’m busy!”

“And I told you that I’m not going anywhere unless you finally talk to me! Three months is too damn long for us not to speak to each other!” I roll my eyes, but I let Trish Walker into my apartment/office and turn on the light that I turned off when I exited my office earlier. My best friend’s eyes widen when she takes a closer look at me, but I ignore the unasked question in her eyes as I say. “Fine. I guess it has been in a while.. So tell me, why has the famous Trish Walker decided to grace me with her presence this evening?”

The former child-star turned radio host glares at me. “Don’t be a bitch, Jess. You’re the one that keeps blowing me off when I ask to see you. Like I said, I haven’t seen you in three months!”

I huff and cross my arms. “Like I said, I’ve been busy.”

Trish looks at me, then all of the discarded food containers, cans, and bottles that litter my office and apartment. “Clearly.”

I frown at my former “sister” turned best friend. “Don’t look at me like that! I was going to clean all this up in the morning! Besides, as I recall, our dorm room in college looked a lot worse than this, thanks to you!”

Trish shakes her head as she talks. “You mean during the one year that I stuck through college before Dorothy made me quit?! That was years ago, Jessica! You know…” Trish looks down and blushes. “When I was going through one of my self-destructive phases…”

I actually bust out laughing at that. “Trish. Trish…no. You taking uppers in your teens to lose weight, and throwing up after meals, that was self-destructive! Becoming a party girl who drank and did drugs all the time in her early twenties was self-destructive! You gaining fifty pounds your freshman year of college was clearly a deliberate act of rebellion, since Dorothy was like Attila the Hun when it came to controlling your weight back when you were “Patsy.”

Trish blushes again as she gulps. “There…might be some truth to that. I was feeling rather…uninhibited that year …  
”  
Trish looks away from me as my eyes widen. She’s not referring to the night we never talk about, is she? She told me the morning after “the incident” that she had been so drunk that night that she didn’t remember anything, but, not for the first time, I wonder if Trish just felt too embarrassed to talk about…

But Trish cuts off that line of thinking with a nervous laugh before she says. “Don’t try to change the subject on me, Jess! I’m still mad at you for avoiding me! Besides…My weight was one of the few things my mom was right about. I look so much better now than when I was fat…”

Trish’s eyes widen as she puts her hand over her mouth, and she is so busy being apologetic that she doesn’t even notice that I shook my head without thinking about it when my best friend said she looked better skinny. “Jessica…I’m so sorry! How could I be so insensitive….”

I glare at my friend for a moment, and then turn my eyes away from Trish as anger and shame overwhelm me. “Oh no, don’t stop talking about how great it was that you lost weight on my account just because I’ve turned into a fat ass in record time!” 

I look right at Trish then, defiantly jiggle my large double belly, the first of which is spilling out from under my shirt enough to make it looks like a crop top, jutting out several inches in front of me as it laps over the button of my blue jeans. This action also causes my huge ass, which I know very well is covered with cellulite, my stretch mark covered, tree-trunk shaped thighs, and my love handles, which stretch out about a foot to either side of me, under my shirt and over my jeans, to all jiggle at the same time. My large boobs also bounce around freely under my shirt, since I outgrow my biggest bra yesterday, and my chubby cheeks and two chins are also shaking like crazy.  
Instead of the disgusted reaction I anticipated, however, Trish has a look on her face that I can’t read as she stares at my body for several seconds. Even Trish’s anger at me seems forgotten as she looks down at my huge belly.

Since I hate awkward silences, I clear my throat and say. “Um…I’m just going to clean up now. Sorry that you had to see how much of a pig I’ve been lately.” I then turn away from my friend and start picking up empty food containers from off the floor and throwing them into a trash bag, cursing my uncharacteristic feelings of embarrassment and then sudden bout of all too familiar self-loathing as I do so. I’m usually not so bashful about my size, or my recently acquired eating habits. But being fat around Trish, having my best friend see the results of my gluttony, is enough to shake my usual self-confidence. On the bright side, at least my super-strength keeps my huge body from being tired out from the exertion of bending down and picking things up.

I reach down to pick up an empty carton of ice-cream, but Trish walks in front of me and picks it up instead, and her ass accidentally brushes against my double belly as she does so. Trish then shoots me a reassuring smile, and if I didn’t know any better, I would almost think that she’s blushing as she says. “Jessica, you know that’s not what I meant! I mean, yeah, you could stand to clean this place up a bit, but…. I did a six-week series on body shaming and eating disorders for Trish Talk just last year. Some of the best people I’ve ever met are heavyset.. I’m the last person that would want to fat shame someone, especially my best friend, and. I’m sorry that my statement about my weight loss felt like a personal attack. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt you.”

The look in Trish’s beautif…I mean, her eyes is filled with so much warmth and acceptance, that I have to look away. I’m not very good with…feelings. And even if I was, I know that staring into Trish’s gorge…stop that! I mean the eyes of MY BEST FRIEND, WHO IS ALSO MY SISTER, never leads to anywhere good. So I just look away and mutter. “I know.”  
Several more minutes pass in silence as Trish and I quickly gather all the food remains in my apartment and put them in the trash bag. I then use my strength to chuck all the trash bags out of my window into the dumpster across the street from my building with the perfect accuracy I’ve honed while doing this tasks countless times over the years. Only then, does Trish turn to me with a worried look on her face as she sighs and says. “I don’t want to offend you, Jessica. And I’m definitely not judging you for gaining weight, but I am concerned about you. I mean…look at you!”

I look down at my large, soft body. All I can see when I look down are my two wobbly chins, my large boobs (becoming a fat girl came with some perks), and my huge belly, which completely obscures my view of the rest of my body. Then, unexpectedly, Trish reaches out with one hand and jiggles my belly, causing my chins and boobs to wobble as well. Trish’s touch awakens the same strange mix of arousal and shame that I always feel when someone touches me since I started packing on the pounds a few months or so ago. Only with Trish, both feelings are amplified by a thousand-fold, and I can feel my cheeks burning, even as my pussy becomes wetter than it ever has without having sex, while Trish talks to me with a strange look on her face that betrays both excitement and fear. “You’ve gained a LOT of weight in the last three months or so, Jessica! I mean, I’m not trying to be rude, but, it’s not normal for a person to gain this much in that short amount of time!”

I blush even harder, and the heat between my thighs grown even hotter. Now I’m worried that the cum leaking out of my pussy right now is going to seep through my jeans and black panties where Trish can see it, as I shrug and say. “I guess not. But when have I ever been normal?”

Trish nods her head absentmindedly as she takes a good, long look at my obese body with widened eyes. I should probably ask Trish to stop looking at me like that. And I should definitely ask her to remove her hand, which has not moved since she shook my exposed belly several seconds ago, from my large stomach. But I don’t. Because Trish’s touch has always felt far better than it should on my skin. 

All concern is gone from Trish’s gaze now, as she slowly starts to rub my belly as she asks, in a fascinated tone. “How much weight have you gained since we last saw each other?”  
I gulp, then lie through my teeth, even as my chubby cheeks get redder, and my crotch grows even warmer with a mixture of desires that I don’t dare to name. “I don’t know. Maybe a hundred pounds?”

Trish snorts and shoots me a disbelieving look. “No, Jessica. You’ve gained a lot more than that! Gaining a hundred pounds would have made you pretty fat, but you, Jessica Jones, have gotten absolutely huge! You must have gained at least 200 pounds! In just three months! That’s remarkable!”

My whole body feels like it is overflowing with heat now, and I can feel every pore on my skin start to sweat as I lick my lips. Despite my usual confidence in my size, I would generally feel embarrassed by someone calling me fa directly, much less huge. But this is Trish we’re talking about, and my best friend’s tone of voice indicates fascination, rather than condemnation, in her person, in regards to my recent sizable weight gain. And her gaze, which keeps swinging back down to my belly, the largest part of my lard-ass form, definitely doesn’t betray any disgust for my fat body. In fact, if I didn’t know any better, I would think that my best friend’s widened orbs indicated that she was aroused by my fat body.

I quickly suppress a sight as I remind myself that is impossible. That Trish, my best friend and SISTER (ADOPTED sister, a small, defiant part of my mind retorts), is as straight as an arrow. That the one incident that might have indicated otherwise, which happened a long time ago, only occurred because Trish was very drunk. And my best friend doesn’t even remember that night. 

But despite my racing thoughts, I manage to answer Trish’s words anyway. “I guess. I really don’t know how much I weigh…and I don’t really care. I don’t even own a scale.”  
Trish half smiles, half smirks at me. “Really? Well, surely you most know your clothes sizes? You must have gone shopping for a new wardrobe at least a dozen times since….” Trish gestures to all of me with her free hand, even as her right hand STILL hasn’t left my belly! “This happened!”

I snort at that. “Please. You know I hate shopping. And I’m too busy to play dress up these days anyway. Ever since Killgrave, I’ve been getting a bunch of new clients, and I’m currently working on about a dozen cases. So since Malcolm won’t go away, and insists on being my apprentice and some such shit, I made him my errand boy,. He takes my measurements and goes shopping for me every few days, and I always tell him I don’t want to know how big I’m getting, or how big my clothes are. So…nope. I have no idea what size my clothes are.”

Trish keeps looking at my body in a way that makes me gulp as she says with a smile on her face. “Fascinating.” Trish Keeps rubbing my belly even as she moves her body to my side, and puts her other hand just above my huge ass, which is barely contained by enormous, but tight, jeans. My best friend then puts one of her fingers on the sizing tag and whispers in my ear in a way that is a little too intimate, even for best friends. “May I?”

I just nod, and Trish smiles at me in that way I both love and hate, because it makes me feel all kind of things for my (ADOPTED!) sister that I shouldn’t, then she accidentally brushes her hands along the back of my plus-sized panties for a moment before she unfolds the sizing tag on my jeans and gasps. “Jessica… I heard the rumors about your weight gain. I’ve even seen pictures of you online that I thought must have been photo shopped, but I still had no idea…You’re a 6XL! That must make you around 400 pounds! You’ve gained about three hundred pounds in three months! How is that even possible?!”

I glare in suspicion at Trish, but I’m powerless to ask my friend to pull her hands (for one of Trish’s mandibles is still on my belly, and the other is now holding my size tag with two fingers, and touching my huge panties with the other three digits on that hand) away. As embarrassing as Trish’s attention to my expanding body is right now, her touch feels SO GOOD on my enlarged double belly and cellulite covered ass! “Why? Are you going to make my weight gain a subject of one of your ‘Trish Talk’ programs?!”

Trish shakes her head as she looks down and pulls her hands away from my body. “Of course not! I only did those programs on you and Killgrave to keep people safe, then to let people know a major threat to this city had ended at your hands! I wanted everyone to know that you were a hero!”

Trish shakes her head again and starts walking towards the exit to my office/apartment. “But you’re right. Your weight is none of my business, Jessica. I had no right to ask about why you’ve packed on the pounds. Now, if you’re done insulting my integrity as a journalist, and as your best friend, I’m going to be leaving now…”

But I don’t let Trish finish that sentence, or walk out of the door, as I quickly jog over to my friend, causing my wide, squishy body to jiggle, and my apartment to shake from the pounding of my feet against the wood floor, then grab my best friend’s skinny wrist with my own fat, sausage like fingers. “I’m sorry. And… I got hungry.”

Trish turns to me and gives me a confused look. “What!?”

I lick my lips, because the constant contact between my skin and Trish’s tonight makes it impossible for me to hide my arousal at this topic of conversation for even one more second as I say. “You asked how I got so fat. And I’m telling you. I got hungry. One night, a little over three months ago, right after interviewing some hypnotist that I suspected might be like Killgrave, but turned out to be harmless, for no reason at all…I got really. Fucking. Hungry!”

“And I’ve been hungry ever since…” I lick my lips again, and my stomach rumbles loudly, so I start rubbing it in an attempt to quiet it down until I can get more food to feed my enormous double belly. “I got so hungry that night, I ate a large combo at McDonald’s,, then a whole bunch of desserts from there. That filled me up for a little while, but around midnight, I got really hungry again. Ravenous. I emptied out the entire contents of my fridge that night and ate everything! The next morning, I ended up emptying out my cupboards and eating everything out of them too! And I was still hungry! So I went shopping for more food. As per usual, I didn’t get a single healthy thing at the store….but for the first time in years; I didn’t feel the need to get any booze, either. In fact, I haven’t stopped to think about it until just now, but ever since that day, I’ve been too hungry to even think about drinking. Instead, I filled my cart with donuts, ice cream, pizzas, pasta, French fries, cheesecake, soda, chocolate milk….anything that I thought might make my belly full again….”

“Wait…” Trish lifts up her hand then smiles at me as she redirects the conversation. “You’re saying you haven’t had a drink in over three months! That’s amazing!”

I shrug. “I guess. My liver’s probably in better shape now that I’m addicted to food, instead of alcohol. This, on the other hand…” I shake my double belly again, and Trish’s eyes follow it’s movements like she’s hypnotized by my huge gut. “Isn’t in such great shape these days.. Although, round is a shape, I guess.”

Trish shakes her head and walks towards me, even as her hand starts to slowly migrate back to my belly. “A lot of people replace one addiction with another, Jessica. It’s not unheard off, and your food addiction is one of the less harmful ones you could have landed on. Take me, for example, After Dorothy pressured me to drop out of college and lose weight, I fell into binge drinking and drug use for a long time….”

I roll my eyes at my best friend. “Yeah, and that nearly got you killed! Maybe you should have just stuck to French fries and Oreos!” 

I smile at Trish to show her I’m joking, but I can tell by the frown on her face that she knows it’s a joke with a serious edge. “You’re right that I almost killed myself several times back then. I’ve lost track of the number of times that I OD’d during my wild years, and you had to drive me to the hospital so I could get treatment…”  
I nibble my lip nervously as I quietly say. “It was a lot. Too many.”

Trish hugs me then, and I don’t know how to take the amount of emotion my best friend is throwing at me tonight, so I just stand still and let her hug me as she lowers her head enough to put it at the center of my chest as she softly says. “I know, Jessica! I’m so sorry I put you through all of that!”

I gulp as I feel Trish's head on my breasts. But I know this is not the proper time to be aroused. Even if the heat still present between my legs profoundly disagrees. “It’s okay. That’s all old news now. And you’ve saved my ass plenty of times since then, so…”

Trish nods her head and pulls away from my embrace then, but her hand returns to my belly . “Exactly. You and I look out for each other, even when no one else, will…”

Trish looks me in the eyes again, and the concern is back in her gaze as she says. “Which is why I’m worried about you right now, Jess. I’m worried because you haven’t returned my calls in three months, you wouldn’t see me for all that time, and you’ve gained an unhealthy amount of weight in a very short time! Now, I think it’s great that you’ve found the strength to give up drinking all of the sudden, but you must know it’s not good for your organs for you to get this big! And again, I’m not trying to body –shame you, but since you’ve refused to see me since you’ve started gaining weight, I know that you are unhappy at this size. I’m guessing you were ashamed to let me see you like this.”

“Actually…” I resume blushing, but I try to hide it by walking away from Trish and pacing around the room for several seconds. “I’m perfectly happy being fat.”

Trish’s eyes widen. “What?!”

I smirk. “You heard me. I’m not ashamed of being fat. I actually, kind of, like it. I mean, it sucks that I have to work so much to cover my food and clothing costs these days, sure. But otherwise, I’m perfectly happy as a big girl. The only reason I was avoiding you, and trying to hide my weight gain from you, is that I was afraid you would get all freaked out and get all disapproving, like you used to do with my drinking. But whether you disapprove or not, I like being this size. I don’t know when I realized it. Probably around the time people started to referring to me as ”fat ass”, so when I was around 200 pounds or so. It’s hard to tell the exact weight that happened, since all the eating I’ve been doing lately have being turning me into a land whale at a stupidly fast rate. I know I would never have chosen to get this big before my hungry belly took over my eating habits, but I’m glad it did. Because now I realize that there are about a thousand things I love about being fat! I love taking up more space in a room, because it makes me look more intimidating. I love how soft my body is now. It makes it really easy to turn myself on!” I make a show of rubbing my belly as I say this last part, and Trish’s eyes follow the movement of my hands as I do so.

I allow myself to smile a little wider then, as I add. “I like how I can feel every movement, since my whole body jiggles whenever I move. And I absolutely love some of the kinkier parts of being big. You might not know it, but there are a lot of guys in New York who are willing to get down and dirt with a confident big girl. Hell, even Luke Cake couldn’t stay away from all this sexiness for one last one night stand right after we saved the city from the Hand a month ago! Plus, fat sex feel absolutely amazing!”

Trish retracts her hand away from my belly then, as if she has just been burned, and when she looks down and says, in an angry voice, “Okay, I get the picture.” I could almost swear that Trish is jealous now. But I quickly shake that thought off as I remind myself that Trish is straight, and so am I…mostly.

I sight and shake my head. “I’m sorry if that was TMI, Trish. I’m just making the point that…”

“You’re happy being fat.” Trish nods her head, and her tone is all business now as she says. “I got that. And I’m glad that you’re finally happy now, Jess. I really am. God knows you deserve to be happy after all the shit you’ve been through!”

I shake my head automatically, but Trish will have none of it. “That wasn’t a question, Jessica! Whether you believe it or not, despite all the demons you’ve struggled with, you are a good person and you deserve to be happy! Even if you can’t believe you’re a superhero, I need you to believe that you are my hero! You have been since we were teens. You have saved my life so many times over, and that alone makes you a good person…”

I shake my head again. “Bullshit! I haven’t saved your life any more than you’ve saved mine.”

Trish huffs. “That’s debatable. But it’s also irrelevant. You save me, and I save you. That’s how it’s supposed to work when two people love each other.” Trish’s eyes widen, as if she’s just realized how that comment can be construed. “You know, because we’re best friends.”

I nod to Trish’s statement, and I’m thankful the stoic look that I’ve kept on my face doesn’t give away that my “best friend” has just raised up hopes inside of me that I’ve never dared to seriously entertain before today…then dashed those hopes to pieces. All in the span of about thirty seconds. “Right. That’s what best friends do.”

I’ve never felt more like a liar than I do right now, because Trish’s non-confession has just rudely reminded me of a fact that I’ve tried to forget for years. To me, Trish Walker is far more than just a friend. But a friend is all I’ll ever be to the only woman I’ll ever fall in love with.

Thankfully, Trish doesn’t seem to sense my inner turmoil as she says. “Exactly, best friends look out for each other. And that’s why I’m concerned for you now. You’re still a beautiful, gorgeous woman, Jess, and I’m so glad you’re happy, but I’m afraid that you being this big might be bad for your health and…”

I smile at Trish and say. “I appreciate your concern. But I’ve already looked into it, and I’m one of the healthies people on Earth! According to some made scientist doctor that Luke Cage referred me to, just before we decided to go our separate ways for good, because he was ‘concerned for my health’ as a big woman too, not that my size stopped him from….”

Trish frowns again so I just say. “You know, from doing ‘that’ with me, first. And according to this “self-proclaimed expert” on super-powered people, my cells are extremely adaptable, or something like that. That’s why my stomach has been able to expand so fast, allowing me to eat enough to become such a fat ass in just three months! And apparently, my -body has even been able to adapt to me becoming super-sized very quickly. That’s why I’m still as strong and fast as I was before I started gaining weight, and why my blood pressure, cell counts, and glucose levels are all within an extremely healthy range. Hell, doctor Frankenstein, or whatever his name was, even asked me to let him keep a sample of my blood, because he thinks he can use some of my cells to make all fat people healthy, regardless of their eating or exercise habits. I told him to knock himself out, after he signed away his rights to some of the royalties if those meds materialized, because getting rich, and a world full of happy fatties, doesn’t sound so bad…..”

And then my mouth opens slightly as something Trish said finally registers in my brain. I then look Trish directly in her beautiful eyes (and I don’t give a damn if I’m going to hell for thinking that way about my “sister”, because Trish is worth it) as she smiles at me in that way that always makes me weak in the knees and says. “I’m so glad you’re powers are keeping you healthy, Jess! And I’m proud of you that you’re letting that doctor use your cells to make the world a better place for other people of size! Forget what I said, before, Jessica! If you’re happy and healthy as a beautiful and gorgeous fat girl, than I say good for you for living your life the way you want to…”

“You called me beautiful…and gorgeous. Twice. And you sounded like you really meant it. “I interrupt my friend while I try to school my face into a stoic mask. “You’ve never called me… those things before.”

Trish looks down and bites her lip, like she often does when she’s nervous. Under different circumstances, that would make me laugh. Because I know she picked that habit up from me. But right now, I’m too busy hanging on Trish’s every word. My beautiful blonde friend looks down at the floor and says. “Really? I haven’t? I’m sure I’ve told you that you’re a pretty girl before, Jess. And if you would take a little more pride in your hair, make-up, and clothes, more men would notice that too.”

I shake my head and gulp. I know that Trish has just given me an “out” of a potentially very awkward conversation. And I know I should just take it and let Trish’s words go. But I can’t. Not when I’ve been secretly been in love with my “sister” turned best friend since our Freshman year of college. Not when I’ve spent entire nights since “the incident” wearing myself out, willing myself not to cry because I knew that someone as kind and beautiful as Trish could never fall in love with someone as mean and fucked-up as me, until I finally passed out from exhaustion. Only to wake up with tears in my eyes anyway that I had to wipe away before my roommate/sister/best friend/secret love woke up and asked me what was wrong. So instead of ignoring what I can only pray to gods I don’t even believe in (well, I know that Thor and Loki are real, but I doubt they give a damn about anything I want) was an accidental confession of feelings on Trish’s part, but may have just been a bad choice of words, I press the issue instead. I just hope that this conversation doesn’t end with me losing the only real friend I’ve ever had. “That’s not what you said, Trish. And you know it. You’ve called me pretty before. But you’ve never called me beautiful. Or gorgeous. Did …”

I clear my throat, and I’m certain that I’m about to lose my best friend by selfishly risking everything to satisfy my curiosity about Trish’s true feelings, to see if there is a chance for me and Trish to be more than friends, because my sister in-all-but blood’s face seem emotionless right now. But like an idiot, I continue the conversation anyway, because my curiosity, my need to know things, has always been my greatest weakness. That why I became a PI. “Did you mean that, or were you just trying to make me feel better about blowing up like a turkey float at the Macey’s Thanksgiving day parade!? Because….” I look down as I speak, because I’m REALLY not good at voicing my emotions, but I force myself to say what I’m feeling anyway, since I know for sure that, one way or another, Trish will never admit to having feelings for me if I’m not willing to do the same for her.. “I think you’re beautiful, and gorgeous.. And I really mean that, Trish. Because I…I’m in love with you. I have been for a long time.”

Now everything is out in the open. Or at least my thoughts, and my heart, have been laid bare. Now I’m just waiting for a hammer bigger than Thor’s to fall and smash mine and Trish’s friendship to pieces.

Trish looks up at me again, and her expression is unreadable for a full minute as I wait from a reply from her. And I can’t help but think this it. This is the moment that Trish calls me a sicko for falling in love with my (adopted) sister, and tells me that our friendship is over now. That she never wants to see me again now that I’ve told her I love her.   
But then, instead of changing into a glare accompanied by angry words, Trish’s stoic expression turns into a smile instead. Strangely, however, that smile is soon accompanied by tears. I frown at Trish as I slowly walk towards her and say. “Look, Trish, I’m sorry that I upset you. And I understand if you don’t feel the same way about me. Shit! I knew I shouldn’t have said anything! So… If you would like for us to just pretend that this stupid conversation never happened, then I’m willing to do that. I’m okay with us staying just friends if you want…”

Somehow, my words just make Trish cry harder as she quickly closes the distance between us and hugs me again, putting her face right in between my large boobs once more as she does so. As I hug her back this time, I try to push down the arousal switch that Trish has kept turning off and on with her words and actions as my friend finally manages to speak through her sobbing. “No. I’m done pretending! You and I have been through too much together, between Dorothy, the alcohol, the drugs, and Killgrave, to not be honest with each other now! And I’m so sorry that I wasn’t up front about this right from the beginning, but I didn’t think you felt the same way …”

Trish laughs through her tears and says. “The point is, I’m in love with you too, Jessica! I have been since the night we both got drunk and made love in your bed in college!”

“That’s when I got the hots for you, too!” I smile at Trish as I wipe her tears away with my hand. And damn it, I don’t usually do sentimental gestures like that, but I’m too happy to care about acting tough right now. But my smile soon turns into a frown when I say. “Wait a second. I thought you said you had been too drunk to remember what happened that night?”

Trish lifts her head away from my chest and looks down in shame, but she doesn’t pull away from our mutual embrace as she says. “I’m sorry, but I lied. I just…you and I were such good friends and sisters. I didn’t want to ruin that by trying to turn our relationship into something else. Besides, we were both drunk that night after partying in our dorm, and I thought that was the only reason you slept with me. You know, considering you’d already slept with so many guys by then, and you’ve slept with a lot more men since, and not one other girl, than I know of. I…I thought you were straight, instead of bisexual. Like me. Plus, I was fat at the time, because I was eating so much to defy Dorothy’s stupid diet. So I thought I was too ugly back then for someone to sleep with my while sober.”

I sigh then, because the truth around the lies that Patricia Walker had believed about me all these years are complicated, but I quickly smile at Trish to reassure her before I say exactly the wrong thing. “I am straight.”

Trish tries to pull away from me then, as her eyes radiate confusion and hurt even as she says something under her breath about playing games with her heart, but I don’t let her pull away from my embrace before I add. “I like men. And I have thoroughly enjoyed having sex with many of them. And while I certainly don’t hate women, I’m not sexually attracted to any of them…”

Now Trish is crying again, and I feel bad for how I phrased things while I was trying to make a point, so I finally conclude my thought with. “Except for you. You’re special.”

Trish stops crying, and her eyes widen as she says. “What?”

I roll my eyes at Trish as I explain myself. “ Like I said. I am straight. And I am attracted to men, not women…except for you. You’re the only woman in the world I like that way.. The only woman in the world that I would, and have, gone gay for. And you’re the only PERSON in the world that I’ve ever…had serious feelings for. Because you’re just that special to me, Patricia Walker….”

Trish pulls me in to a long kiss then, and I’m lost in the sensations of my “best friend” and I running our hands through each other’s hair, of Trish’s lips pressed against mine, of my tongue meeting hers, and my heart feeling things that I can’t even express, because the only thought that keeps running through my head for the next minute or so, over and over again, is 'I love you, Trish! I love you, I love you….'

But of course, I don’t actually say all that when Trish pulls away from me. Partly because I’m not that sappy, but mostly because Trish chooses that moment to laugh as she says. “That’s exactly how I feel about you, Jess! When I said I was bisexual before, I meant that I mostly like men too, but that I also have feelings for you. And you’re the only person I’ve ever fallen in love with too, Jess! The only person, I’ve realized recently, that I ever will love that way. That’s why I broke up with latest ex, Griffin, earlier this evening.”

I’m about to pull my “best friend” into another major lip lock and move things into the bedroom YESTERDAY when I hear a loud series of knocks on my office door and Ted screaming, “I’m here, Jessica! Come get what you want, and I’ll get what I want!”

I wince while turning away from Trish. My friend/girlfriend/sister/I don’t know what she is to me now, but certainly more than a fuck buddy looks at me with a knowing, upset expression on her face. “You had booty call lined up for tonight before I arrived, didn’t you!?”

I scoff and force a smirk, but I can’t make myself look in Trish’s eyes when I say. “Given my track record, does that really surprise you?!”

Trish rolls her eyes and shakes her head, then starts to exit the room while saying. “I should have known! Thin, fat, drunk or sober, you never change, Jessica!”

But I grab Trish’s arm with my pudgy hand, holding her in place before she can leave my home. Trish tries to push my hand away, but I use just a little bit of my strength, enough to restrain, but not harm, Trish, forcing her to stay put, despite her demands to “Let me go, Jessica!” I ignore both Trish’s demand, and the continuous banging on my apartment’s front door, as I make a demand of my own in a calm, firm tone. “Trish, look at me.”

Trish shakes her head as moisture builds up in her eyes, but I continue to restrain her as I say, in a slightly louder tone. “Trish, please look at me.”

When Trish hesitates again, all pretext of calmness goes out the window, as a filling in my gut that has nothing to do with how hungry I am convinces me that I will lose Trish forever if I let the woman I love leave the room like this.. And I can’t lose Trish. I just CAN”T! So I don’t care if Ted, my new landlord, or every person on my floor hears me when I scream. “Trish, look at me god damn it!”

I know myself just well enough to know that I’m on the edge of losing control (from personal experience, unfortunately), so I let go of Trish’s arms before my grip becomes hard enough to hurt the only person I’ve ever allowed myself to love after my family died. But I can’t stop the moisture that comes out my eyes at that moment. I frown at my lack of control as I feel fucking tears come out of my eyes. Shit! Am I crying?!

But less than a second later, I’m thankful for my lack of restraint (in this particular instance), because my tears move Trish more than my words ever could. My blonde haired ex-sister’s mouth widens as she wipes the moisture away from my face. “Shit, Jessica! You’re crying in front of me? I guess you really have changed!”

I look down, refusing to meet Trish’s eyes because I don’t trust myself to look at Trish directly during such an intense, intimate moment, which I am sure I will find some way to fuck up, when I say. “So fucking what if I’m crying?! Sorry I’m not the strong, vigilante superhero you think I am!”

But Trish takes my plump face in her hands, touching both my chins and plump cheeks as she says. “Sometimes being vulnerable is strength, Jessica! Now , at least, I know your feelings for me are sincere~ No matter how our new…dynamic works out, you NEVER have to be ashamed to cry in front of me! Do you understand that?!” I nod, then Trish continues speaking. “Now you asked me to look at you, and I am, okay? I’m looking you right in the eye, and I’m going to let you explain why there’s a strange man knocking at your door, asking for sexual favors mere moments after you told me you loved me.”

As if to underscore her point, Ted shouts from the apartment hallway. “Jessica, if you don’t answer this door soon, you are getting nothing from me ever again! Do you understand?”

I blush in embarrassment. “Yeah, about that. Ted’s a pizza delivery guy. Before you dropped by, I MIGHT have implied that I’d have sex with him if he brought me a bunch of food for free…”

Trish sighs. “Seriously, Jess? Even hookers usually have enough pride to ask for money…”

I shake my head and frown. “First of all, they’re sex workers, not whores. My clients who work the oldest profession, which it turns out, is often even more fucked up then mine, are very adamant about that point. Also, most of them aren’t as…hungry as I am..”

My stomach emphasized my point by growling loudly as I sigh. “That’s the one down side of being this fat and sexy, I guess. I’m so hungry all the damn time! I’m working a dozen cases a week now, on average, to pay for all the food I eat! And I earn a percentage from all of Malcolm’s cases! And still… I’ve had to max out six credit cards to keep this baby fed all day long!” I pat my large stomach, which Trish looks at in unconcealed awe, as I continue speaking. “Between food costs, new wardrobes ever week, and credit card payments, I barely have enough to pay rent! So yeah, Trish! When I’m as flat broke as I am right now, and hungry enough to eat a whale, I am that desperate for food! Or at least, I was…”

My stomach growls loudly again but I silence it with a pat as I frown. “But…I love you even more than I love food, Trish! I need you even more than I need to fill my belly at all hours of the day! So if there’s any chance of us working…I’m willing to starve myself a few days a week, if it means being faithful to you!”

I sigh deeply again as I walk to the front door of Alias Investigations, footsteps thundering and body jiggling as I do so, then I open the door to Ted, a short, red haired man who is just as muscular, but noticeably balder, than when I last saw him. But I hold the horny man, who is holding several boxes of food that smell like absolute heaven, and has several more boxes behind him in a cart, back from entering the apartment. And as much as it pains me to turn down so much delicious food, I remind myself who I’m doing this for as I say. “Sorry, Ted! I changed my mind! Turns out I’m not that desperate for food after all! So take your delicious, amazing smelling food…” I droll a little bit, then compose myself and add. “And take a hike!”

Ted stares at me for a minute, acclimating himself to how fat I’ve gotten since he last saw me, then he glares at me and starts yelling. “You teasing bitch! As if I’d sleep with your fat ass anyway! You have really let yourself go! And you know what else? You are blacklisted, you hear me! I should have known that….”

But then Trish loudly clears her throat behind me, and motions me to back away from the door. I do so with a confused expression on my face before Trish takes my place at the door and says. “What my gorgeous, big, beautiful girlfriend MEANT to say was that I will be covering her food expenses from now on…in the usual manner!” Trish pulls several hundred dollar bills from her purse and hands them to the angry man at my door, then says. “There. That should be more than enough to compensate you for both the food, and your disappointment at not being able to be with a woman as sexy as my girlfriend! But Jessica is all mine now, I’m afraid!” 

Trish drapes her arms over my large shoulders as best she can from behind me, “accidentally” brushing her fingers against my boobs as she does so. Then she kisses me hard for thirty second straight, rights in front of Ted. Damn. I REALLY don’t like people treating me like their property , or airing my personal business in front of strangers, but I’ll have to allow it in this case. It turns out, possessive Trish is HOT! 

Ted shakes his now-sweating head and stammers out “Wha…wha…whatever. Where do you want me to put all this food?” 

Trish smirks at the anxious man in front of me as she leads him into my apartment and shows him the desk and filing cabinets he can put all the food on. I can’t help but stare at Trish as she takes charge of the situation and arranges all of the food boxes in the most structurally sound and aesthetically pleasing manner possible while giving Ted a tongue lashing. “Oh, and by the way…” Trish looks at the nametag on the pizza guy’s uniform. “ Ted. If I ever hear that you, or any other employee of Greasy Pete’s, is still making disparaging remarks about, or discriminating against, people of size, I’m going to report your asses to the ACLU for weight-based discrimination! I have them on my speed dial. Number five. And I will bury your little pizzeria on Trish Talk!”

Ted’s eyes widen as he finally recognizes my new girlfriend. Ted was never too quick on the uptake. “Wait, you’re Trish Walker?! That’s right, I heard you and Jessica were friends, but I never thought you two were… especially now that Jessica is a land whale…Holy shit! Patsy Walker is a lesbian chubby chaser!”

“Hey, baldy, ease up, will you?!” I chime in.

But Trish interrupts me and puts her arms as far around my belly as she can, even while Ted is blushing and adjusting his bad toupee on his head, and my girlfriend whispers in my ear. “Don’t sink to his level, Jess! You’re better than that!”

I roll my eyes, and I’m about to voice my though. ‘Since when?!’ But Trish manages to speak to Ted before I can get a word out. “That’s right! Tell all your friends! Trish Walker…” I smile at the way my new girlfriend emphasized “Trish”, because I know how much she hates being called “Patsy”. “Is dating a fat chick! And Jessica Jones and I are madly in love!”

I open my mouth to protest Trish’s wording, but she whispers in my ear before I do. “Don’t ruin this moment for me, honey! We only get to come out once, and I’m much better at PR than you are.”

I silently acknowledge that Dorothy’s fucked up parenting, as well as Trish’s way word youth, have forced my girlfriend to become much better at public relations than I am, so I nod in acceptance of Trish’s point. I even let her get away with calling me “honey”, even though I would hit anyone else for calling me such a sickeningly cute pet name in public. But coming from Trish’s mouth…I kind of like being called “honey.” So I sigh and whisper back to my girlfriend in a sarcastic tone. “Yes, dear.”

After Ted walks out of my home/office while saying, “freaks!”, I turn to Trish with a smile as I open up an extra, extra large, meat lover’s pizza and breathe in the delicious smell of meat and cheese. “So…you’re funding my food addiction, now? I thought you said you would never be my enabler!”

Trish shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “That was when you were an alcoholic, Jess! Evidentially, eating a crap town of junk food doesn’t hurt you, and it certainly won’t get you drunk!”

“Nope.” I quickly agree with Trish and pat my belly while I take a large slice of pizza out of the box and bring it to my mouth. “It just makes me fat as fuck!”

I moan as I take a bit of the delicious pizza, and Trish looks at me for a long few seconds with an expression I can’t read as she says, ”There’s nothing wrong with you being a big girl Jess! I’d love you if you were the biggest woman on earth! And you know what else?”

I shake my head and just smile at Trish, since I’m still chewing pizza, and I can’t even open my mouth before my girlfriend takes the piece of pizza out of my hand, and puts the delightful confection right back in my mouth. How’s a fat girl supposed to refuse being hand fed like that by her beautiful girlfriend? And while I’m chewing my second bite, Trish pushed my shirt up, then starts rubbing my huge belly. “I don’t want you starving yourself any days a week, Jessica! If you love food that much, if eating makes you that happy…I’m not going to make you choose between me and eating whatever you want. That’s why I’m paying for your food from now on! I love you too much to make you deny yourself pleasure…”

Before I can even finish my bite, Trish sticks another bite in my mouth and rolls her eyes. “And no, that policy does not extend to letting you have sex with other people! You can indulge in gluttony all you want, but I’d better be your only outlet for lust!”

I smirk at Trish as she finally lets me stop eating for a few seconds, in order to reply in a snarky tone. “Fine by me! I guess food will just have to be my mistress then! Mister. Whatever.”

I make a show of finishing the rest of my pizza slice, including the crusts, in one huge bite, and of moaning loudly and slowly while running my right hand down my belly, then under my pants, readying myself to eat and masturbate at the same time. Something I have done several times since I started getting fat. But Trish literally licks her lips and puts her hand on my arm to stop me as she says with a fire in her eyes. “Let’s move all this food to your bedroom, shall we? I really want to feed you all this fattening food while we’re both naked!”

I quickly comply, and within minutes, all the food is in my bedroom, and for several minutes, Trish and I get lost in each other as we kiss deeply, then practically tear each other’s clothes off. And I’m far too lost in euphoria and lust to be self-conscious about my body. And I’m too busy focusing on Trish’s gorgeous, but painfully skinny body, pert boobs, tight ass, and all, to think about body image right now anyway. But before Trish and I can even get to second base, my stomach growls again, reminding me how unbearably hungry I am! Trish just laughs as I blush and she quickly dips a breadstick from one of the food boxes in the buttery garlic sauce that they came with, then lifts the messy appetizer to my lips. 

I quickly wolf the breadstick down, spilling garlic sauce on my left boob as I do so. Then I laugh as Trish’s mouth immediately finds itself on that breast as she licks the buttery substance off of my nipple while her hands drift to my huge belly and fat, cellulite-covered ass.. As Trish is busy sucking my breast completely clean, rubbing my belly, and groping my ass, I smirk. “Damn, I already knew you are bi, Trish, but I never suspected you really were a chubby chaser!  
”  
Trish moves her face and hands away from me as she smiles and replies. “Neither did I, until tonight. I’ve always thought you were hot, Jess, but I really love you fat!”

Trish’s hands slowly drift down from my face, to my boobs, to my belly, to my thighs, and finally, finally, after what seems like an eternity, to my lower lips as I stammer out. “Damn! If I’d know that, I would have let myself go years ago!”

Trish just smiles in reply to that statement as she fingers my pussy for several minutes, before I finally come with a loud moan that I know probably woke some of my neighbors up, but I don’t really care. Trish then lifts her finger s up to her face and licks my juices off her fingers, before closing her eyes and moaning softly. “Fuck, Jessica! You taste even better than I remember!”

“Show me!” I lean in to kiss Trish, and she greedily opens her mouth and forces her tongue into mine. Not that I mind. This new, dominant side of Trish is really sexy! We make out for several minutes, as my juices pass between her mouth and mine. I taste salty, apparently. But Trish’s kisses taste sweet. A perfect combination.

After Trish finally pulls away from me, I make a move to touch her lower lips with my hand. “My turn!”

But Trish slaps my hand away. And I don’t know why, but I let her, as she says to me. “Nope. Not yet! You have to earn this!” Trish playfully fingers her own clit for several seconds, then picks up an open box filled with chocolate cake and a plastic spork from my bedside table. “I bought you all this food, and now I want a return on my investment! Eat up, fat girl!”

My grumbling stomach reminds me that I am still, impossibly, hungry, so I quickly give into Trish’s demands and open my mouth to let her spoon feed me a slice of rich, delicious, chocolate cake! I moan as I nearly get lost in a haze of chocolatey euphoria, with only Trish hand, which is rubbing my belly, and her tongue, which “cleans off” any crumbs that fall onto my belly and breasts, to ground me to my surroundings. When I open my eyes, just before Trish sticks another bite into my mouth, I smirk. “Oh, I’ll eat up, all right! With you paying the food bills, I’m going to be eating none-stop, 24/7, from now on! It’s going to cost you a fortune!”

Trish laughs at that, as she feeds me the rest of the cake, while fingering my pussy again, and I know Trish is trying to make me associate food with sex for some reason, but I don’t care, because I feel so good when both sets of my lips are getting pleasured at the same time. Then, as I arrive at cloud nine, as I orgasm at the exact same moment I swallow the last bite of cake, Trish adds. “I don’t care! You’re worth it, Jess! Besides, I think…I know, I’m going to enjoy having even more of you to love in the future!”

I chuckle as I pat my belly! “Oh, you’ll have that, all right! At this rate, I’ll be the fattest woman on earth within a year or three! I hope you’re still liking this rocking bod when I’m the size of Jabba the Hutt!”

Trish laughs. “I don’t think that will be a problem. You have two things Jabba doesn’t: great boobs, and a hot ass!” Trish smacks my blubbery ass lightly, causing my whole body to quiver in a cascade of fat and flesh, before Trish adds with a smile. “Besides, I’m proud to be dating the fattest superheroine on Earth!”

Trish feeds me the rest of the pizza I started on earlier, as well as the remaining breadsticks, alternating between fondling my belly, ass, boobs, and thighs as she does so, and eating crumbs and sauces of my body but I manage to get a few words in between courses. “Is that what you’re going to tell reporters when they ask you why we’re dating? You know that shit is going to be all over the news before ten in the morning, right? Ted couldn’t keep his mouth shut about a secret if his life depended on it. ”

Trish shakes her head as she continues to feed me, and as I allow myself to openly stare at Trish’s pert breasts, trim stomach, and dainty limbs for the first time, I can’t help but think that, as hot as my girlfriend is, she was even hotter when she was a chubby girl in college. Huh. I guessTrish is not the only chubby chaser in this relationship. Shame I'm the only fatty. I’m going to have to fix that…

But Trish breaks me away from my thoughts as she feeds me some hot wings from another food box while saying. “Actually, from my experience, news of our relationship will probably break on local news networks by eight, maybe nine, tomorrow. That’s why I would like to out us as a new couple myself at seven in the morning, on Trish Talk.”

Trish feeds me another tangy wing before I can open my mouth to object, while rubbing my belly and pussy at the same time and saying. “Trust me on this, Jess. It will be better if I can introduce our relationship to the world before the rest of the press can. Put our own positive spin on us getting together. I’ll say that you and I have hand feeling for each other for years, but you insisted on us not acting on them when we were younger, because we wert both being raised by my mother at the time, and you didn’t want to ruin my acting career by getting me labeled as an “incestuous lesbian.” But eventually, our feeling for each other became too strong for us to fight, and we decided to date in secret, until we got caught kissing by Ted last night! We’ll be sort of a “forbidden love” couple. The American people will eat the story up, because they love sappy romance stories. Besides, they’ll forget all about us the next time a Kardashian gets knocked up again. And the best part is, you don’t even have to participate in all that hoopla tomorrow. Just sleep in tomorrow morning, and let me do the talking to the American public, okay?”

Coming from anyone but Trish, her words feel condescending to me, because I hate letting other people take charge of any aspect of my life, but since I trust my best friend turned girlfriend, and I know she’s way better at influencing public opinion with her words than I am, I don’t mind. “Sure. Sounds like a plan. Getting ahead of the press is smart. Know what would be even smarter? If we stopping talking and starting making out again!”

Trish and I lean in to do just that, but while my lips and tongue get busy macking on my girlfriend, and my right hand fondles one of Trish’s boobs, I allow my left hand to sneak towards a nearby pizza and tear off a slice while Trish’s eyes are closed. Then, as soon as Trish and I pull away from each other, I shove the pizza slice into Trish’s mouth. “Here, twig! You look hungry! Have some pizza!”

Trish takes a bite of the pizza, lets out a low moan of her own, then pushes my hand, and the rest of the slice, away. “I really shouldn’t…I already had dinner before I came over here…”But I gently encourage Trish to eat more by waving the pizza in front of her nose. My girlfriend quickly gives into the delicious aroma the pizza is still producing, and quickly agrees to “Just one more bite!”

But “one more bite” become dozens, and I’m able to convince Trish to eat four whole slices of meat lover’s pizza before she resumes feeding me the rest of the food from the delivery. And while I’m painfully stuffed by the end of my feast, to the point that Trish has to rub my belly as I burp and fart several times (without trying to cover up the stench or the smells of these actions, because hey, I’m still a bit of an asshole), I smirk with satisfaction when I notice that Trish also has a small food baby of her own. Because yeah, Trish will definitely never be as big as me, but I’m now pretty certain I can convince Trish’s “freshman fifty” to come back with some friends within a year or two, and then I will have even more of Trish to hold at night. Speaking of which…

I gently push Trish down onto the bed and begin to straddle her skinny frame, a process which causes my huge belly, gelatinous ass, two chins, and chunky thighs to shake as I begin to move my face towards my girlfriend’s vagina. “You got your money’s worth, Trish! Food’s done! Time for some real fun!”

But Trish pushes me off of her. Or rather, she ineffectually shoves against the fat and muscle of my gargantuan body, and I willfully roll of her with a sigh. “What wrong now? You said I could eat you out after I finished all the food!”

Trish rolls her eyes. “First of all, you didn’t eat all of the food! Don’t think I won’t hold you feeding me those four slices against you, Jessica! I respect you wanting to share, but I completely blew my diet for the day because of you! Even so, I was planning on keeping my words with you and having sex but you are WAY too fat to on top of me now! And as hot as it would be to end my days crushed under all of your soft, comfortable, fat…” Trish jiggles my belly and breasts playfully as she says this. “I want our new relationship to last more than just a few hours! For the foreseeable future, I’m going to be on top from now on!”

I glare challengingly at Trish for several seconds, but she holds my gaze steadily while I say. “What the fuck!? You know that I like to be on top! I’m always on top!”

Trish shakes her head and smirks at me. “Until today. Either let me be on top, or you can forget about sex tonight!”

Shit. Trish knows she has me trapped with that ultimatum. After Trish’s kisses and fondling, getting fingered over and over again, and eating all that delicious food, I am horny beyond belief. So I sigh and say. “Fine.” Then me and Trish switch positions, until she is on top. I swear, the things I do for love.

Then Trish slaps my belly softly and says, “That’s a good piggy!” And I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me tonight, but instead of being offended, I get turned on beyond anything I’ve ever felt before, and the growing heat between my legs feels like a nuclear reactor about to go into meltdown! Screw foreplay! I need Trish! NOW!

I make this point clear to Trish by immediately bringing my lips to Trish’s lower lips, and holy shit! She tastes as good as the first time! I savor the sweetest taste my lips and tongue have ever had the pleasure to consume, even as Trish goes down on me at the same time! And hell yeah! Trish’s expert fingers and tongue make her even better at ‘69ing than I remember! But then I realize, as my huge belly, ass, and boobs, as well as my chins and chubby cheeks, all shake in tandem as I sweat like a pig and jiggle uncontrollably, that Trish increased skills in the bedroom aren’t the only reason that this evening is more pleasurable than my “one night stand” with my girlfriend in college. No I remind myself as I greedily eat Trish out, sex feels even more awesome now that I’m fat!

Needless to say, having sex Trish in this moment is the most pleasurable experience of my life so far!

Until it isn’t.

I suddenly realize something is wrong when I stop feeling Trish’s tongue and fingers on my lower lips. In fact, I soon comprehend with horror, I can’t feel anything below my waists anymore! “Trish! What the fuck is going on! Something’s happening!” 

Then I quickly lose feeling in my torso as well, as the numbness suddenly makes its way up to my neck! Then before I know it, I can’t taste Trish in my mouth anymore, nor can I speak! Then Trish quickly climbs off and me and points to my body as she starts crying. “Jessica! What the hell!”

I quickly look down with what little mobility I still possess, and realize my girlfriend is right! I’m literally falling to pieces, into atoms, or molecules, or some such shit! Before I can fully process what’s happening, my vision and senses of smell and taste start to go, as I lose the sight of Trish’s beautiful face, as well as the sweet scent of my girlfriend’s sweat. and the taste of her juices on my tongue. But my hearing is the very last sense to go as I hear Trish start to call something out before I’m completely consumed by darkness “No! Jessica! Jessica! Stay with me! I don’t know what this is, but I love you! I need you! I always have! Don’t leave me…”

….Trish’s POV…

“Alone!” Gravity makes me fall onto Jessica’s bed as the last traces of the big, beautiful woman that I suddenly realize that I’ve been in love with since I met her as a skinny teen in that hospital room, after her family’s car collision, dissolve completely away underneath me. But I barely notice my body falling down more than a foot and crashing down onto my girlfriend’s cheap mattress. Nor do I take notice of the sounds of several vehicles crashing in the distance or the screams of countless other people crying out in anguish, or the sound of emergency personal’s sirens wailing as they rush to avert a disaster that I suddenly realize, with a growing sense of alarm, must have already happened all over Hell’s Kitchen, or even all over New York! Or hell, given the Avenger’s recent bouts with extraterrestrial threats, maybe even all over the world!

But I quickly push aside that horrible thought, as my usual instinct to investigate to get to the bottom of a tragedy doesn’t come to the surface just yet. At the moment, I can’t think about the potential losses of the whole world, because the loss of just one world, just one person, is already more than I can bear right now. For it is in then that my traitorous mind replays Jessica’s panic in her last moments, and the fact that she was breaking into tiny pieces. Then and there, I know the woman I just realized tonight, was the love of my life, has gone away. Not away to any particular place. Just away. Possibly for good.

I hug the mattress Jessica’s wide body had nearly covered completely, less than a minute ago, as best as my short arms will let me. I try to hold onto the feelings I had been experiencing in the moment, before Jessica….before she….

NO! I can’t think about that right now! Jessica can’t be gone! She can’t! Not when I love her and need her so much! So I force myself to focus on replaying the last sane moment of my existence in my mind again. The pleasure I felt from Jessica’s body and mine finally becoming one when we were both sober. Yes, I remember that well. And I remember how warm, and safe, and loved I felt as I held Jessica’s super obese body in my arms like a big, comfortable, sexy pillow.

I cry myself to sleep as I realize that I will never feel that warm, safe, and comfortable again, and that Jessica has spoiled me for loving anyone else. But in this moment, as I clutch my slightly distended middle, which is still full from eating two dinners tonight, full enough that I can almost imagine my belly being as big and comfortable as Jessica’s, I realize I would do absolutely anything to feel even a fraction of the warmth, comfort and safety I had been feeling in Jessica’s loving embrace only a few short minutes ago. In that moment, I strangely feel my stomach rumbling with something that feels similar to hunger, even though I am very full. But these strange hunger pains quickly give away to exhaustion as my body shuts down due to all of the stress and anguish I have been feeling over the last several minutes, and I pass out into a fitful, dark parody of sleep that will plague my nights for years to come.

But in my dreams, I hear myself calling out to Jessica, as I continuously hope against hope that Jessica Jones will somehow come back to me someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for that chapter ending, but It couldn't be helped. The world of Jessica Jones is a dark and gritty one. And no one gets a happy ending without going through hell first. Besides, I wanted to incorporate the events of "the Snap" into my alternate JJ timeline, because there's no way that catastrophic event wouldn't effect the lives of the people in the MCU shows. I promise you, the third and final chapter will have a brighter ending.
> 
> The name of this title is based off of a quote from the film, "The Prestige", in which "the turn" is the second part of the magic trick, where things often "disappear"...
> 
> Oh, and i hope the interactions between Trish and Jessica were okay in this chapter, considering I'm writing a non-canonical pairing, and that Jessica's mental state has been ever so slightly altered by the events of the first chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I have a lot of other stuff going on in my life right now, so I don't know how long it will be before my next chapter comes out. The good news is, that means there should be plenty of time for me to take reader feedback into account before publishing my next chapter. So please, let me know what you would like to see in future chapters of this story in the comments section, and I will take any ideas posted into consideration. Feedback is always appreciated!


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